Corsencon 19 April

 

Alan, Allan, Davie C, Davie Mc, Dougie, Graham, Gus, Malcolm, Paul, Rex, Robert

The weather forecast had been excellent allowing the first outing of shorts this year but, as we assembled at the station car park in New Cumnock, there was a Baltic wind blowing. So, jackets, hats and gloves were the order of the day. As we left the station and walked over the bridge Malcolm’s hat blew off and landed somewhere below us and we assumed it was never to be seen again. Watch this space!

Anyway, the long walk on tarmac up towards Corsencon was into the wind, but other than that, walking conditions were good and after an hour we stopped for coffee just before the lime kilns. Round about us there was evidence of fly-tipping but as we moved further up there were some appalling sights. Scotland! Wha’s like us? Eventually we left the road and found the somewhat boggy track up beside the fence that would take us to the start of our climb up to the top. The problem was that stout fence, with barbed wire atop it. It was difficult to find an easy place to climb it and we couldn’t find a gate, so we just had to grin and bear it and try and get over it. Most made it over safely, but Derval Davie and Dougie fell victim to the barbed wire and blood was drawn. There were shouts of ‘Get me aff this bloody hill’. Where have we heard this before? Plasters were sought to stem the flow.

The climb up to the trig point had its steep bits but we were all there by midday. It was too cold and windy to take lunch there meaning that we didn’t delay our descent. Most went down the steeper front of the hill, but Allan, the two Davies, and Dougie decided to return the way they had come despite the fence. They saw quad bike tracks but couldn’t see a gate they were leading to and therefore they arrived back at the same point they had climbed the fence previously. This time however, sensible precautions were taken, and they were over without mishap and wandered back down to where they had previously taken coffee for lunch. For the record, a gate was found at the start of the fence just at the point where we had left the road. On the way down though, they noticed that the entrance to the limestone mine had collapsed leaving only a small gap at the top for access. They assumed that this was fairly recent, although it had been some time since they had last been there.

The main group made it safely down to their lunch spot at the mast, creatures of habit, before setting off back down the road to the cars arriving five minutes before the rest of the guys. Four hours for eight and a half miles. Remember Malcolm’s hat. As they crossed over the railway bridge on the return journey Rex spotted it beside the tracks near the platform and the bold Malcolm went down and retrieved it. Malcolm was last seen holding on to the buffers of a goods train heading for Glasgow. But he had his hat on!

FRT was taken in the Black Bull in Mauchline where we were well-received as normal and were presented with sausage rolls to aid our recovery from the walk.

A grand day out! No, a bloody grand day out!